


Betting Pool

by mosylu



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Betting on Ridiculous Things, Crazy Shippers are Crazy, F/M, You've Got to Pass the Time Somehow, outsider pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 03:25:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6639469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mosylu/pseuds/mosylu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry and Iris have their first official ice-cream date as a couple. The event is even more momentous than they know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Betting Pool

**Author's Note:**

> For the date prompt: "ice cream date" on Tumblr.

Paul popped out the back door. “Hey, newbie!”

“What?” Miguel said warily, turning off the hose and letting the picnic table drip dry.

“C'mon, you gotta work the register.”

“What? Why?” Not that he couldn’t work the register, but there were already three people on them and nobody was due for a break. 

He wondered why he was questioning it. He’d work the register over hosing off the back patio any day.

They always gave the newbie all the crap jobs at Eye Scream, his brother had warned him. Washing out the shake machine. The clean-up shift. Little-kid-eating-big-big-sundae puke. You basically prayed for someone else to get hired so you could pass the newbie crown onto them.

He hadn’t mentioned anything to do with the register, though.

Paul guided him to a vantage point where he could see the line. “Do you see those two, about halfway down Rachel’s line? The beanpole and the extremely fine black girl?”

“ … yeah?” The beanpole was pretty cute too, Miguel thought, but he didn’t mention it. Even his best friend didn’t know he preferred guys yet. He sure as hell wasn’t mentioning it to his asshole co-worker.

“Okay, so these two, right? They’ve been coming here for years. Literally years. According to Eye Scream lore, they’ve been coming here since they were ten.”

“So?”

“So they always say they’re not dating.”

He narrowed his eyes at the couple, leaning into each other, smiling into each other’s eyes. “I call bullshit.”

“Right? _Right?_ Us too. They’re always like that! But why would they lie to hard-working employees such as ourselves? So we all just figure it’s a matter of time, and so was born - ” He yanked a clipboard off the door of the giant walk-in freezer, where people recorded (and mostly lied) about whether they’d checked the bathroom this hour. He peeled back the top sheet to reveal - “The Pool.”

“What?” Miguel said again. Maybe this was a newbie prank. Just confuse the crap out of him.

“This is a piece of Eye Scream history right here, newbie, and soon you’ll be part of it. You’ll switch out with Rachel so you can serve them, and then you’ll ask - The Question.”

“Let me guess. I’m supposed to ask if they’re dating or not.”

“But subtly, newbie. And then once they tell you no, again, you get to come back here and pick a date along with all of us. And every time they come in, you get to pick a new date or stick with your old one.”

Miguel looked at the sheet. It looked like a blank schedule, with employees’ names written down the side. Most of them crossed out because they were old employees, who’d gotten fired or moved on to jobs that weren’t total summer nightmares. Paul was one of the holdouts, his name surrounded by scratches and crossings-out and in the case of somebody who must have been extremely hated, a name scribbled over so hard that the paper had ripped.

In the boxes where the weekly hours would normally be, they’d all written in months and days, with old guesses crossed out. Paul’s current pick, apparently, was August 2016.

“What do you get if you pick correctly?” he asked.

“Satisfaction, newbie. Satisfaction.”

He waited.

“Okay and maybe the tip jar. For a week. But it’s not about the money! It’s about the contest. It’s about the correct guess. It’s about the foresight, the perception. It’s about correctly predicting the status of Schrödinger’s baes out there.”

“This is a lot of energy to put into two strangers’ relationship.”

“Did you not hear me? They’ve been regulars for a decade and a half.”

“Still kinda creepy. Maybe more.”

Paul’s face went sour. “Think whatever you want, newbie, but you’re gonna ask The Question just like all the rest of us did when we were newbies. If you and your superior attitude don’t want to make a prediction, then fine, but you’re gonna do that much.”

“I’ll do it,” Miguel said hastily. “I’ll do it. I just think it’s a little odd.”

“Come on. We work at a crap-ass ice cream shop. We have to get our jollies somehow.”

Rachel came back for nuts to add to a sundae and hissed, “They’re next in line, Paul, so quit your yapping and hustle that newbie up there, would you?”

Miguel allowed himself to be towed along and planted in front of the register. He adjusted his hat and smiled at the beanpole. “Welcome to Eye Scream, You Scream,” he rattled off. “What are you screaming for today?”

Not for the first time, he wondered how horny the owner had been when he’d made up the dumb greeting.

The beanpole said, “Can I have a double banana split with extra chocolate sauce and extra cherries, please?”

Wow. That was very nice, honestly. He hated the people who stood in line for ten minutes and then looked at the menu like they’d never seen it before when they were standing in front of the register. “Sure thing,” he said, keying it in. “And for your - ” He glanced at the girl. “Your girlfriend?”

Behind him, Rachel breathed, “Oooo. Nice, newbie. Slick.”

The girl smiled brightly at him. “His girlfriend will have the brownie sundae.”

There was a sort of general intake of breath behind the counter. At the next register, Hassan dropped the entire handful of nickels and dimes that a twelve-year-old had handed him for a chocolate-dipped cone. 

Apparently oblivious, the beanpole looped an arm around her shoulders. “Girlfriend,” he grinned at her.

“Boyfriend,” she cooed.

“Extra brownies, please?” he added. “If possible?”

“Sure thing,” Miguel said, keying it in. “That’ll be nineteen-twenty-two.”

He reached for his wallet, and his girlfriend said, “Barry, no, I’ve got it!”

“I’ll get it,” he argued.

“You got it last time. I’ll get it.”

“Yeah, but Iris, this is our first official ice cream date as a couple, so, I’ll get it.”

Miguel took it back. They were gonna be one of _those_ couples. He smiled at them and said, “I’ll just get your deliciousness started.”

By the time he came back, they’d settled that Barry would spring for the ice cream. “And I will get the movies tomorrow,” Iris said with an air of finality.

“Okay,” Miguel said, not really caring as long as he could hit the sale key and give them their damn receipt.

Everyone else had disappeared somewhere, so he quickly handled the last couple of customers and headed back to see where they’d all gone.

Paul, Hassan, Surya, and Alyssa were all gathered around the clipboard. Rachel was jumping up and down. “Yessssssssss meeeeee!” she yelled. “Dominance! Suck it, fools!”

“What was your pick?” Miguel asked.

“Last month! I thought I’d lost, but noooo, victory is miiiiiiiiiiiine!” She pumped her fist.

Paul was shaking his head. “All this time. Finally,” he said, blinking away actual tears in his eyes.

“It’s the end of an era,” Surya said.

Paul sniffed. “You guys. The debates - the mockery - the endless speculation when they came in with other people - It’s been a privilege.” He pressed his knuckles to his lips. “Truly. Can we have a moment of silence?”

Miguel looked around as the others bowed their heads, even Rachel, who was still grinning like a maniac. _These people are weirdos_ , he thought, and bowed his head too.

“Okay,” Paul said, yanking The Pool off the clipboard and tossing it at the nearest garbage can. “So. What’s your call on when ol’ Barry pops the question?” He looked around. “Miguel? You served ‘em, you get first pick.”

_This is really, really dumb,_ Miguel thought, but found himself saying, “Put me down for, mmmm, December.” Maybe dumb was the point.

“Miguel,” Paul said, writing it in. “December. Which year?”

He thought of the way they’d looked at each other. “Duh, this one.”

“Hey,” somebody yelled from the front counter. “Can we get some goddamn ice cream here?”

* * *

Barry looked at Iris as they carried their treats out to her car. “Every time,” he said in a mystified voice. “ _Every time_.”

It wasn’t like they’d never gotten asked before, but nowhere as consistently as Eye Scream.

Iris curled her arm through his and snuggled up to his shoulder, miraculously keeping her brownie sundae safe. She was very good at preserving one of Eye Scream’s brownie sundaes. “Except this time we got to say yes.”

He grinned and kissed her. “Sure did.”

FINIS


End file.
